Hungry. A word. A feeling. Somehow Huckleberry felt it emanated from this creature though Huck hadn't seen it's mouth open. Where was it's mouth exactly? It's body seemed to be a mixture of black and white mass and he wasn't sure exactly where it's head was yet. And still, he'd felt that word scratch out, like coming out of a dry paper bag. He'd felt it. His own stomach somehow felt empty now and his throat felt sandy and dry, like cracked earth. How long had he been running around out here in the cold air already? When was the last time he'd eaten? He didn't remember being hungry or thirsty until this moment. The cool rush of wind blew wet droplets of seawater into his face and the sound of crashing waves reminded Huck that there was water all around them, but it was undrinkable seawater. The waves lapped against the rocks noisily, the sounds beating like taunting, tempting laughter. Drink me. The sea seemed to say. Drink me. Drink me. But Huckleberry knew better, despite the dryness in his mouth. He swallowed, his throat feeling tough and scratchy. Thirsty. Huckleberry could feel it welling up inside him. He hadn't the experience to realize this feeling was coming from the creature in front of him. He was quite tempted to run away, to search for water further inland. His curiosity held him there in defiance of this desperation that had suddenly taken hold of his body. He felt unsure and nervous, a change from his earlier bold confidence as he approached. Yet, he still wanted to investigate. He sniffed the air cautiously, his paws shifting his weight as he padded back and forth in front of the creature. Was it this thing that had spoken? Or just his imagination? He looked it over, trying to figure out the best way to approach it closer. He circled, dipping his head quickly to pick up a long, thin stick that had washed up on the shore. He took it in his mouth and continued to cautiously (but not slowly) step closer to the being. "What does it eat?" He replied through gritted teeth as he held the stick, his voice inquisitive. If this was hungry, he wondered if there was some sort of food nearby he could sniff out for it. He stretched his body out, using the stick to reach out for it, attempting to poke it gently on the side to see if it was solid or not. "Fish? Clams? Plants? Bugs? I'm good at catching bugs..." His words slurred as he continued to speak through holding the stick in his mouth. "Does it have a name? " He rattled on, barely waiting to see if the thing answered. |
ooc. I didn't roll the poking with the stick so feel free to move out the way if not wanting to be poked. It's just a gentle inquisitive poke.